Hunting
by Death Phoenix
Summary: No one hurts those who are precious to him and gets away with it. That Decepticon had attacked and hurt the wrong mechs. He was going to find that there were far scarier beings than Megatron, after he had been hunted down that is. Set after OOTW. G1verse.


Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or anything associated with Transformers. I do own Nightstrike.

xxxxx

As Nightstrike walked with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe toward the main entrance of the Ark to see them off on their patrol before he left to go to the med-bay he felt a tinge of warning. It worried him that feeling. The last thing he wanted was harm coming to any of those precious to him. Seeing as he couldn't just pull them off duty because of a feeling, no matter how acurate his feelings usually were, the medic would warn them himself.

Quickly retracting his battle-mask, as there was no one around, not that he would have cared all that much anymore, Nightstrike pulled first Sideswipe and then Sunstreaker in for a kiss. The kisses might not have been very long but they more than conveyed Nightstrike's sentiments.

"Be careful ya two. I 'ave a bad feelin' 'bout patrol this mornin'."

Sideswipe grinned at their worried lover. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that their lovers, both of them, truly and completely cared for his twin and himself. But he didn't like it when either Bluestreak or Nightstrike was worried or upset. And right now Nightstrike was worried. The scarlet twin knew better than to ignore his dark lover's warnings so he reassured Nightstrike as much as he could in his own unique way.

"Don't worry my rare Rose of Ruin for our dear Dandelion of Doom and myself will be very careful on what is sure to be a boring patrol."

Nightstrike could see the look in Sunstreaker's optics at the nickname Sideswipe had once again bestowed upon him so the medic thought to lighten the mood a little more and get a little of his own back for the nickname he had been given. They still hadn't stopped trying to figure out why Jazz had called him Rhythm, which had somehow spawned the name Rose of Ruin. He had still yet to get Jazz back for letting that name slip, even if his use of it in the other dimension had only spurred them on.

Perhaps he would let them know why one day.

"I'm sure ya will my precious Petunia of Peril an' in return I'll make sure our beloved Bluebell of Blight doesn't come ta any harm while ya are both unable ta do so yourselves."

Sideswipe felt his jaw drop at what their medic had just said. The amused smirks on the face plates of his golden twin and his dark lover didn't help. It quickly changed back to a grin. He would definitely have to remember those names and this occasion. It was rare that Nightstrike was that open when out in public like they were. And it was nice to see both of his more stoic lovers in this kind of mood.

Nightstrike was bestowed with two more kisses of the heated variety, it was very likely the Twins didn't know how to give any other kind, before they transformed and sped off.

As he stood at the entrance of the Ark and watched the gold and scarlet alt-modes of his twin lovers disappear in the distance Nightstrike was assaulted once again by that feeling of warning.

Only this time it was stronger.

And all he could hope was that they returned to him and Bluestreak alive and whole.

xxxxx

Ratchet was very aware of how agitated Nightstrike was even if his state of agitation wasn't apparent at all. You had to really know and interact with the visored medic to be able to tell. The door-wings Nightstrike had acquired when he took his new alt-mode made reading him a little easier, but not by much. And the CMO had seen Nightstrike tuck away said door-wings before going out to battle so they didn't help with reading him as much as say Bluestreak with his door-wings.

Not surprising really given Nightstrike's profession in the Black Ops.

Nightstrike very rarely left his door-wings out at all really. Ratchet would have to remember to ask about that sometime.

But it wasn't normal for his fellow level one medic to be this tense or agitated. As far as he knew Bluestreak was on monitor duty with Red Alert and the Twins were out on patrol, so there was no readily apparent reason for Nightstrike's state at the moment.

Seeing that this had been going on most of the morning and that a stressed medic was a careless medic, not that Nightstrike had ever given into nerves when lives were at stake, Ratchet called in someone who could help.

So it was no surprise when Jazz walked into the med-bay. At least it was no surprise to Ratchet.

That Nightstrike didn't sense, or more like didn't pay attention to his senses, his trine-mate coming, spoke of how out of it he really was.

xxxxx

Jazz almost wasn't sure what to make of his trine-mate's distracted state. Something was obviously bothering him, that much was very apparent to the saboteur, but he wasn't quite sure of what was bothering him. It could really be any number of things. Jazz just wasn't sure exactly which of those number of things it was. Nightstrike's end of the bond was while not closed, was not really open either. Muted would be the best description.

If the state of their bond wasn't a big enough clue then his trine-mate's body language, which he could read like few others could, was a fairly good indicator that something was wrong. The saboteur _almost_ didn't want to ask but frag if he wasn't getting a little antsy himself just from looking at Nightstrike and being in his presence.

Something was going to happen. Something bad. And very soon.

Frag!

No wonder Nightstrike was on edge.

His precognition had decided to show up and was working overtime. But who was in the middle of what was sure to be a slagstorm? Because Nightstrike's little Gifts of the Seeing variety never failed to wake up at some of the worst possible times. But that could just be cruel Fate or Primus's unique sense of humor kicking in.

Jazz started thinking hard and looking for clues. He really didn't like the answer he was coming up with. When Nightstrike's precognition, usually that little warning in the back of his processor that the slag was about to hit the fan in the near future, decided to rear its inconvenient head it usually pertained to either himself, his trine-mates, or someone in his immediate vicinity.

Seeing as Nightstrike hadn't come looking for _him _Jazz could safely say he wasn't on the list of possibles. His trine-mate wasn't looking at either the ceiling, which would indicate Sandstorm who was in space at the moment, or at Ratchet who was the only one besides the saboteur himself who was in the immediate vicinity. Nightstrike was however repeatedly looking at one of the med-bay walls as if he could see through it.

That action got the saboteur's attention. He knew very well that his trine-mate had seen the Twins off this morning. That wasn't unusual, but the medic usually did so with Bluestreak. In fact, the wall Nightstrike kept looking at was the one facing the direction of the patrol route the Twins had taken.

Frag it all to the Pit!

Nightstrike's precognition had expanded, which they both really should have realised, and probably now included all of those intimately connected to their trine. Those intimately connected being Bluestreak, Prowl, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker.

And with the way Nightstrike was acting the Twins were about to be in a lot of trouble, especially when one considered what had happened to the medic the last few times his precognition had warned him of coming danger. There was no way in the Pit that Jazz would soon forget his trine-mate being caught in large Decepticon-planned explosions, not for the next few millenia at least.

It was just typical that there really wasn't anything that could be done to prevent whatever hellish thing that was going to happen from happening. And that was probably just adding to Nightstrike's already agitated state.

The saboteur would later curse and bless this specific Gift of his trine-mate's, no matter how much said trine-mate hated said specific Gift. Because while the dreaded event couldn't always be prevented, lives could still be saved.

xxxxx

Nightstrike could feel the warning growing stronger as more time went by. It settled on his shoulders like a great weight that grew heavier and heavier no matter how closely he paid attention to it or how desperately he tried to ignore it. Every time he felt that weight settle upon him he couldn't stop himself from cursing their good for nothing Creator. And he couldn't stop from thanking Primus, their Great Creator and God, that he had not seen fit to bestow the Gift of Visions or Prophecy or the duties of an Oracle upon Nightstrike.

Yet.

The medic only thought it a matter of time before he got saddled with one of those horrid responsibilities. But he was in no hurry for them so he kept his vocalizer muted. No reason to bring Primus's attention to him more than it already was. Their God had a wry, ironic sense of humor and being the target of it, especially when one painted said target on oneself, was not amusing at all. Nor was it something to look forward to. It was just something to be expected, no matter how unhappily.

Nightstrike was vaguely aware that Jazz was in the med-bay and speaking with Ratchet when it happened. The warning rang through his body sharp as pain.

He had forgotten how it felt when others were the subject of his precognition. The medic just wished that he hadn't been made very aware of how aligned his spark was with Sunstreaker's and Sideswipe's, as well as Bluestreak's and through Jazz Prowl's as well. His precognition always gave warning about the danger of those whose sparks pulsed in rhythm with his own. Nightstrike didn't even have time to spare a thought about telling Jazz later.

Right now he had two lovers in trouble. And his instincts had him acting before he thought his actions out. That had saved him and others more times than he cared to count.

So he had grabbed Jazz, told Ratchet to prep the med-bay for two heavily injured patients, and warped both himself and his trine-mate to where the Twins were in less than a klik. Nightstrike thought he had been quite slow even though later others told him otherwise. That he had to bring both of his twin lovers back in the conditions they were in effected him more than any words could.

xxxxx

Jazz didn't flinch when Nightstrike grabbed him and warped them both out of the med-bay. He had opened his end of their bond as wide as he could so that when the worst of the warning struck he would feel it as well. However the saboteur did flinch when they came out of the warp near the downed forms of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

It was obvious that the golden warrior was the one in the worst condition so Jazz let Nightstrike go to him while he began emergency repairs on the scarlet twin so that both could be transported to the med-bay.

Mech fluids from both of the Twins was pooling under and around their bodies. Sunstreaker had been hit first, hard and fast and without warning. Probably because he was known to be the more aggressive of the Twins. The golden warrior was bleeding out faster than his twin, most likely due to the rather large hole in his left side and the damage on his right. The largest wound had been caused by a plasma cannon so all of the circuits in that area were either melted together, completely destroyed, or sparking. The damage on the right side had been caused by Sunstreaker being slammed into the cliff that bordered this section of the patrol route by the force of the plasma cannon hitting him.

Sideswipe was missing the lower sections of both of his legs below the knee. One of his optics was cracked and by the amount of sparks coming from his left arm it was a lost cause. The marks of laser fire littered the scarlet warrior's exterior. He had obviously been trying to protect his downed twin.

Scrapes, gashes large and small, and dents covered both of their frames. And seeing as neither had commed for help their comms had been taken out or broken early on in the ambush. The ambush couldn't have lasted more than a breem and the perpetrator couldn't have left but a scant klik or two before Nightstrike and Jazz arrived.

These were daunting thoughts, ones that were pushed away until later.

It was evident to both of the trine-mates just which Decepticon had done this, had ambushed Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They had both seen his 'work' often enough, unfortunately, to recognize it by sight.

That observation was pushed away as well.

For now.

xxxxx

Nightstrike wanted to do something as he took in the sight of his lovers so hurt. But now wasn't the time for that. Right now he had to be Nightstrike the medic before anything else. And Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had to be nothing more than patients who he had to treat. Priority one patients that had to be saved at all costs. That was the only luxury he afforded himself as he shut down his emotions and focused entirely on repairs.

He wouldn't be able to begin to repair them much less save them if he thought of them as his lovers right now.

He had to be a professional.

No matter how painful it was to think that way. No matter how much it hurt to think of them only as patients under his welder.

He could deal with pain just as he always had.

As long as it meant they would live.

All else could wait till later.

Including what he really wanted to do. That too could wait till later.

The 'Con responsible would still be there after Nightstrike saved his lovers.

xxxxx

The scene in the med-bay after Nightstrike and Jazz had brought the Twins back could only be described as chaotic. It was just as bad outside the med-bay. Word of the attack on the Twins had spread through the Ark and everyone was on edge.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were two of the best Autobot warriors. And now they were fighting to stay alive. Ratchet, Jazz, Nightstrike, and Wheeljack were fighting for the Twins's lives and sparks as well.

For as long as Nightstrike and Jazz lived they would never forget seeing, hearing, and feeling Sunstreaker's systems go into shock beneath their hands or the golden Lamborghini's spark start to flicker. It was etched into their memory banks permanently. As was the sight, sound, and feel of Sideswipe's systems and spark doing the same in response to Sunstreaker's.

One twin couldn't and wouldn't live without the other. They should never have to nor would they ever have to.

Somewhere behind that cold professional mask Nightstrike was wearing something long kept under control strained to free itself. Ruthlessly he pushed it back. Now wasn't the time.

Later.

Definitely later.

Because right now his and Bluestreak's twin lovers were dying.

Obviously he needed to try harder.

xxxxx

Jazz watched his trine-mate with careful optics. He could feel the barely contained rage and the barely restrained violence just waiting to be released within Nightstrike. It took something quite drastic to bring the visored medic to this point. Nightstrike had complete mastery of the art of Circuit-Su which was a highly disciplined art that focused heavily on the mind and the spirit.

The medic's mastery of Circuit-Su was one of the reasons he was so calm and stoic much of the time, unless he was doing something he was passionate about. That coupled with his not being forced into the Arena to fight for a great period of time and his general personality made him very slow to anger. However, his anger when roused and turned into rage was a very formidable thing. Nightstrike was not to be trifled with when he was enraged.

The Disciplinary Officer didn't become 'blind' when he was enraged. No, he became cold, ice cold, and calculating and completely merciless and utterly focused on the object of his rage. Violence wasn't a stranger when Nightstrike was enraged either, though he had never turned that violence upon those he loved or the innocent.

He did have all his senses when he became this way. He just lost a few of the inhibitions and morals that he normally had. But he didn't lose all of them. There were some things he wouldn't do for anyone or anything.

Jazz felt the moment Nightstrike's control snapped like it was a physical thing. And he knew what had caused that careful control to snap. Bluestreak and Prowl had just come into the med-bay.

One would think that the sight of the two Ferraris would calm the visored medic down. One would be wrong. It just drove home how very close Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had come to joining the Matrix and that it could happen to any of their loved ones. The Decepticon who had attacked the Twins would do this again just for his own sick amusement and next time it could be Jazz, Prowl, Bluestreak, Nightstrike himself, or one of their friends.

Thus Nightstrike's control snapped. The Twins would live to fight and be slagged another day and would be stuck in the med-bay in stasis-lock for at least an orn. So Nightstrike could finally do what his spark and instincts, among other things, had been telling him to do.

It was time to go hunting.

Optimus Prime's wishes be damned.

So with a soft kiss bestowed upon Bluestreak, Prowl, and Jazz the medic walked toward the door leading out of the med-bay. He did have work to do after all. But he stopped for a moment when Jazz spoke.

"_Fortani orionus." _That was all Jazz said. But that was all he needed to say.

Nightstrike nodded in acknowledgement before blocking their bond and disappeared through the door, locking the med-bay as he left. The ones he had left in the med-bay would need to talk after all. Best they not be interrupted.

xxxxx

Everyone left in the med-bay and online turned to Jazz for an explanation. The saboteur almost wanted to curse his trine-mate for leaving him behind to be subjected to the inevitable questions. But he understood, completely, what Nightstrike had left to do. It might be cold-sparked of him but he hoped Nightstrike drew it out for as long as time allowed. The Decepticon scum that dared to hurt the Twins deserved everything he got. And if the sick demented fragger was stupid enough to rouse the darkness within Nightstrike than he more than deserved whatever happened to him.

"What exactly does _fortani orionus_ mean?" Bluestreak asked with curiousity in his optics. He had felt what kind of mood his dark lover was in. Someone was very fragged. Probably the Decepticon responsible for their twin lovers being in the med-bay being personally monitored by Ratchet and hooked up to machines.

Besides if they were going to question Jazz it was best to start off with easy questions and work their way up. Well, if Ratchet didn't get impatient that is, then they would have to skip straight to the hard questions.

"It means 'happy hunting.' I was wishing him a good hunt."

The brightening of optics signified everyone was aware of what that implied.

Nightstrike had left to go hunt down the Decepticon who had hurt the Twins.

May Primus have mercy upon his unfortunate spark, because Nightstrike certainly wouldn't.

"But Prime-" Jazz cut Ratchet off before he could continue.

"Ya forget tha' th' Black Ops, all three divisions, is semi-autonomus. We _choose_ ta fight beside Autobots, we _choose_ ta be Autobots, we _choose_ ta bare th' Autobot sigil. An' we are within our rights ta work without th' knowledge or approval of th' Prime."

Jazz paused to raise his hand to stall Ratchet's words.

"I told ya this. Everyone in th' room is aware of this. Nightstrike didn't go huntin' when I got hurt real bad tha' one time an' he raced outta th' Ark ta come fix me in th' field. Nightstrike respects Optimus enough tha' he acquiesced ta Optimus's wishes tha' time. Nightstrike won't this time. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were _dyin'_ under our hands. Their sparks were flutterin' an' almost went out right before our optics. Someone is goin' ta pay for wha' was done ta Sunny and Sides. An' frankly I couldn't stop Nightstrike in th' state he is in now even if I wanted ta."

"The state he is in?" Wheeljack asked, obviously not quite sure Jazz would answer his question. The knowledge in Jazz's, Prowl's, and Bluestreak's optics was almost disconcerting. The two Ferraris knew, or at least had an idea, of what Jazz was speaking of.

"'Strike is like Sunny," Bluestreak answered with a quiet confidence in his voice. He saw no reason to elaborate. The sniper knew how very valid that statement was and that it said everything. But whether Ratchet and Wheeljack understood was a totally different thing.

"Like Sunstreaker?" The CMO wasn't quite sure how to take that statement.

"He refers to Sunstreaker's personality Ratchet," Prowl said.

"Explain." It was an order and everyone could tell from the tone of Ratchet's voice that they were all walking on thin ice. So it was best to get to the point.

"'Strike is as sociopathic as Sunny is Ratch. His training an' bein' a medic an' a few other things just make him real calm an' collected most of th' time so it don't show like Sunny's does. Of course 'Strike hasn't fought in battle on Earth since he was transferred ta th' Ark so it really hasn't had a chance ta be shown. Th' only time he got inta any contact wit' a 'Con was when he took off Dirge's wings when th' Conehead was blockin' 'Strike from gettin' ta an injured Blue. An' any time 'Strike did fight it was on Cybertron. 'Avin' his face plates completely covered probably doesn't help either."

That shook the CMO and the Chief Engineer a bit but upon reflection it didn't surprise them. They were aware of how fragged up Special Ops agents could be considering their jobs and what they had to do. The place Nightstrike, Jazz, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe had grown up hadn't helped at all. It did make sense of a few of Nightstrike and Sunstreaker's behaviors.

"This won't change anything for Nightstrike will it Ratchet? Because Nightstrike really likes working in the med-bay and he considers you and Wheeljack his friends which is kinda hard for him just like it is for Sunny. They had too many people try to use them and they don't trust easy and you never seemed to care about Sunny's sociopathic tendencies but Nightstrike is a medic and he might have been worried about how you would react so-"

"Hush Bluestreak, I'm not bothered by it. If anything it helps me understand him better and respect him more. It is very hard for those with certain tendencies to feel much less care." Ratchet looked over at Sunstreaker who could be very cold and uncaring and then over at Prowl who was also equally cold and unfeeling at times. More than one of those aboard the Ark had accused the two mechs of being sparkless on more than one occasion.

If the crew would look a little deeper and consider a few harsh truths they would think twice before thinking such stupid things. Sunstreaker, Nightstrike, Prowl, and Red Alert were very far from unfeeling or cold and certainly not sparkless.

The relief that was apparent on the faces of the three in front of Ratchet and Wheeljack almost made both of them laugh. And they would have if the reason wasn't so serious.

But it did make Ratchet wonder what Nightstrike's optics looked like when he gave into his more violent nature. Would they be anything like Sunstreaker's who had sent Autobots and Decepticons alike running away with just the look in his optics?

xxxxx

Nightstrike's first stop was a preparation room on the same deck that the Special Ops training area was. He had to gather all the equipment he needed for this _mission_. And the hunter really needed to wash away all the dirt, debris, and the mech fluids of his twin lovers that he had gotten on himself in the course of saving said lovers.

It didn't take him long to get everything ready even if he hadn't done a _mission_ like this recently. You just never ever forget how to do something like what he was going to do.

Nightstrike was going to make him _pay_ for what he had done.

With one more scan of the Ark, his loved ones who were all still in the med-bay in particular, Nightstrike disappeared, leaving no evidence that he had ever been this part of the Ark.

xxxxx

Feral optics watched from behind a visor as the unwitting prey moved before them. It was really only a matter of opportunity right now, just waiting for just the right moment. It had not taken long for Nightstrike to find the one he hunted, which would have been a bit disappointing if the Lexus hadn't been as enraged as he was.

Rage seemed to pulse like a living thing within him. And maybe it was. For he had felt and been subjected to that emotion and others just as dark since he had onlined. Nightstrike just had far better control over them now than he had had when he was younger. If he had been younger or less controlled his prey would already be dead and useless.

But he wasn't younger or less controlled.

No, he was very much in control of himself.

And that rage and violence and darkness just waiting to come out was being honed like a fine-edged blade. Ready and able to cause an enemy pain, injury, and or death.

The tri-polar triple-changer known as Blitzwing was going to suffer. He was going to know true agony, anguish, and despair for what he had done.

Optimus Prime was not going to stop Nightstrike from hunting. Not this time. Not when two of his lovers, two of the precious few he loved, had been the ones ambushed and hurt. Not when Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had almost died and Bluestreak was drowning himself in worry.

Nightstrike had listened to the Prime's wishes once on this matter. He had not hunted down the fragger who had hurt his precious trine-mate Jazz. This would not go unanswered.

It was time to remind the Decepticons why they shouldn't mess with the only Autobot trine. Because it seemed being on Earth had made them forget what a mistake provoking one of the Autobot trine really was.

xxxxx

Nightstrike didn't react to the anger and sneering confidence on Blitzwing's face plates. The triplechanger seemed to be under the mistaken impression that Nightstrike wasn't a threat to him. Even though the visored mech had incapacitated the arrogant fragger and restrained him in a painful position in a specially prepared place where no one would find them. The visored interrogator idley wondered if Blitzwing would have time to seriously regret that prideful assumption.

Most Decepticons didn't seem to fathom, or perhaps just could not understand, that there were Autobots that would and could get their hands dirty in the name of their cause. What separated those Autobots who did do things they weren't proud of in the name of their faction from many if not all willing Decepticons who did the same is that there were some lines they did not cross and they took no pleasure in what they did, which could not be said for Decepticons.

One would think that someone in Blitzwing's precarious position would be a little more worried. The triplechanger didn't seem worried in the least. In fact, he was alternating between threatening Nightstrike, cursing, taunting Nightstrike, boasting about what he had done to the Twins, and insulting Nightstrike. Running his vocalizer wasn't helping the Decepticon in the slightest. All his of taunts, insults, curses, and boasts only added fuel to the ever growing fire that was Nightstrike's rage.

And allowing Nightstrike to delve ever deeper into that cold and hollow place within himself that he went into when his darker emotions came to the surface, usually when he actually lost his control, which was rare but could happen, or when he let them surface to focus them completely to accomplish some task.

Blitzwing wouldn't be so prideful or confident soon. Nightstrike was going to show the fragger just why the Decepticons based on Cybertron _absolutely_ _feared_ him like few others. It was obvious that Shockwave wasn't aware of the visored medic's transfer to Earth because the Earth based Decepticons weren't aware of Nightstrike's reputation. This was evident because the Earth based Decepticons didn't treat Nightstrike like the threat he was. Shockwave was going to be in very deep slag when Megatron eventually became aware of who Nightstrike was. Probably after the visored medic did some major damage.

Blitzwing obviously didn't recognize the visored interrogator either or he definitely wouldn't be acting like he was. The black and silver mech had a reputation on Cybertron. There were few who could fight Shockwave in combat, hold their own against him, and contend with the mad-scientist's drones at the same time. The battlefield had a habit of clearing really quickly when Shockwave and Nightstrike sighted each other and began to fight. The enemity between them was well known, at least to those on Cybertron.

Well, the triple-changer's attitude wouldn't last much longer if Nightstrike had his way.

And he would.

xxxxx

Nightstrike did not react as he watched the fear and pain begin to fill Blitzwing's optics. The interrogator was in that cold, hollow place inside him that made it so much easier to focus without distractions. The first thing he had done was remove the triple-changer's transformation-cog after making sure he was securely bound. Then he permanently disabled his prisoner's basic motor functions, scrambled his equilibrium relays, and increased the sensitivity of his sensory receptors.

The Black Ops Commander was nothing if not thorough in his attention to detail, especially in regards to interrogation. Blitzwing had no way of moving on his own, thus making him vulnerable.

Exactly like Nightstrike wanted him to be.

Nightstrike's ability to detach himself, his methodical manner while detached, his medical skills, as well as his experience and willingness made him a perfect interrogator. But rarely had he ever hunted down someone who had angered him to the extent Blitzwing had. The tri-polar glitch had tried to kill two of his mates and had emotionally hurt the third! It didn't matter that technically the only ones bonded among the four of them were Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They were all mates even if it hadn't been made official. That would come in time.

Right now he needed to focus completely on the task before him. He did only have three Earth solar cycles to complete all of his work and get back to the Ark before any of his loved ones or friends became overly concerned.

Nightstrike had never failed to break a prisoner.

Never.

And he wasn't going to start now.

Not when the rage in him screamed for justice to be served and revenge to be taken.

xxxxx

One of the last things an interrogator should do is turn off the subject's vocalizer or cause any damage to the afore mentioned part. An interrogator must always remember this because without a working vocalizer the subject cannot divulge information. So an interrogator must be immune to, or at least seemingly unaffected by, the screams and other such sounds of utmost agony that escape the subject's vocalizer as the interrogator inflicts pain upon the subject.

Nightstrike felt nothing as Blitzwing's screams bounced off the walls and echoed through the cave. He was slowly tearing segments of the triple-changer's tank treads off one by one. The triple-changer's wings had already been scraped then shredded. In fact, Nightstrike had scraped every part of Blitzwing that was currently availiable, which included all visible and not-so-visible cables, circuits, fuel lines, and coolant lines.

Considering Nightstrike had set Blitzwing's sensory receptors at a setting where they were far more sensitive than normal, but not enough to cause a sensory overload of the unpleasant kind thus causing loss of consciousness, Blitzwing was in a great amount of pain. The triple-changer could not move in the slightest without causing unmeasurable pain to lance across his frame. Blitzwing was now far from the confident mech he had been earlier.

But he hadn't broken.

Yet.

Nightstrike was going to change that. Blitzwing had been telling him all kinds of interesting things. And he had stopped bragging about hurting the Twins after Nightstrike had shown Blitzwing that it was possible to strip a mech alive using just an arc-welder. The triple-changer was practically down to his proto-form.

It probably scared the triple-changer more than he would or could admit, that Nightstrike had managed to cause him so much pain and damage without once making him bleed. Nightstrike considered that a mark of a good interrogator; to not get too messy if the situation didn't call for it. While it probably would have been satisfying to feel the energon of his enemy splattered across his chassis, they were not fighting. It was best Nightstrike not tempt himself when there was still information to be collected among other things.

Besides, the night was still young as the humans would say and this was just the beginning of Blitzwing's time under his interrogator's careful ministrations.

There was still that little light of defiance, of hope, in Blitzwing's optics. He would have to extinguish that. And Nightstrike knew just the thing to accomplish that too.

xxxxx

Another mark of a skilled interrogator was the ability to keep your subject online when by all rights they should have been in stasis-lock or permanently deactivated long ago. Nightstrike was a master of interrogation. And Blitzwing was a perfect example of Nightstrike's mastery.

Very few would have believed the generally calm and often stoic medic capable of inflicting such horrific damage on anyone. But then very few had witnessed the atrocities he had or lived through what many would consider the Pit like he had. It made him very glad sometimes when he let his sociopathic tendencies take over that his trine-mates, who had witnessed and lived through much of what he had both first and second hand, hadn't let themselves become quite as screwed up in the processor as he had. Not that they were without their own unique 'quirks', they both were Black Ops like himself and they were all members of a unit nick-named the 'Suicide Squad' after all.

Of course their empathy didn't manifest itself as early or as strongly as Nightstrike's had. And Nightstrike's empathy manifesting like it had when the trine was living, or perhaps surviving would be a better word, where they were in the murky depths of Kaon hadn't helped at all with the development of those sociopathic tendencies.

Jazz and Sandstorm could be just as ruthless and focused and detached as he could when on a mission. They just didn't cross that almost invisible line over into sociopathy. Nightstrike made a point to block their bond when he felt those tendencies in himself arise. He knew Sunstreaker did the same with Sideswipe. Both he and his golden lover liked the ones they were bonded to untainted by that particular mindset that they shared.

xxxxx

"You have no idea who I am do you filth? I am far from surprised," Nightstrike said with a tone that would have frozen fire. The interrogator was speaking with no emotions in his voice, which made the tone even icier, and wasn't using the accented dialect that his trine normally spoke in. "Shockwave's experimental subjects always have barely functioning processors. So I really am far from surprised that you do not recognize me. But you should, I do fight your worthless commanding officer often enough on Cybertron. Perhaps my new alt-mode threw your nonexistant processors off."

It was mildly amusing to watch dull anger liberally mixed with confusion in those red optics slowly but surely turn into horror as Blitzwing finally started to take in the appearance of his interrogator. One would think the triple-changer would have noticed sooner but Nightstrike would never mistake this overly arrogant Decepticon for being smarter than he looked. But Nightstrike wasn't here to feel amusement as the last glint of hope disappeared from those red optics as Blitzwing finally recognized Nightstrike and remembered the black and silver mech's reputation.

There was just a little more information to be harvested verbally before Nightstrike dove into the demented triple-changer's systems to strip away any other relevant bits of information that he might have forgotten or not known to ask about. Diving into the system of another Cybertronian was usually something that Nightstrike hated doing. But when he was in the mind-set he was in now there were certain morals and inhibitions that he had that were temporarily discarded. This was one of them.

The next thing to do was carefully cracking and breaking each joint, starting at the lowest ones on the legs, so as to insure that the subject had absolutely no way to move at all. This action earned Nightstrike screams that quickly became begging. It had taken a while but he had finally reduced Blitzwing to begging for mercy along with bargaining for freedom. Though there were several more chilling screams interspersed in between pleas.

None of this moved Nightstrike in the slightest. Maybe it would have when he was younger, if he hadn't been raised in the Rings of Kaon. But Blitzwing had attacked and nearly killed two of his loved ones and emotionally hurt several others, so the triple-changer had to pay and pay dearly.

Cracking what little armor the proto-form offered was next, followed by the tightening of all cables which would further inhibit movement without excruciating pain.

Crossing Nightstrike was a very stupid and suicidal thing to do. Of course Nightstrike would tell you that crossing anyone in his trine, lovers included, was a very stupid and suicidal thing to do. He had seen how Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had reacted to Bruticus injuring himself and Bluestreak that one battle after all.

xxxxx

Nightstrike knew his work had been done properly and that Blitzwing was utterly and completely broken when those red optics became lifeless and sparks began emitting from a totally frizted vocalizer. The triple-changer had lasted longer than the interrogator had thought he would. But that wasn't saying much in Nightstrike's opinion. He really had no respect for someone who broke so easily, even if Nightstrike was a master of this particular craft. He had been interrogated often enough himself, because the best interrogators have experienced what they do to others, to know that only the weak-willed give in as easily as Blitzwing had.

Thinking over everything carefully Nightstrike came up with a solution. He did want to have use of this cave if he needed it in the future. And he had the perfect solution too. Going back to the supplies he had brought with him Nightstrike took out a vial with a viscous green substance in it and removed one of his former wing-blades from subspace.

"I will not lie and say this will not hurt, because it will hurt quite a bit. But I can not have a mess in my interrogation area and I do have other plans. Plans that do not include filth like you among the functioning. It is a pity, for you at least. You might have lived a little longer if you had not touched the Twins."

Blitzwing didn't react when Nightstrike injected the fluid from the vial directly into the triple-changer's fuel pump. At first there was no reaction to this action. But as soon as the liquid started reacting to Blitzwing's energon, turning it into acid then the real show began. More sparks flew from the triple-changer's very damaged vocalizer as he attempted to scream. Blitzwing was being eaten from the inside out. It couldn't have happened to a more deserving Decepticon.

Blitzwing had no idea how fortunate he was that he had had an Autobot interrogator, no matter how enraged Nightstrike was at him. The Black Ops Commander hadn't let his feelings, or rather lack of them at the moment, effect how he interrogated the triple-changer. A Decepticon interrogator would be more interested in just torturing a prisoner for their own sick pleasure. Because there were plenty of other things Nightstrike could have done to cause Blitzwing more agony and other methods he could have used to reduce the triple-changer to a broken scrap-heap far sooner. How lucky for Blitzwing that Nightstrike was more interested in information first and revenge and justice later.

But Nightstrike did have to end the triple-changer's agony far sooner than he would have wished. He did have plans after all and those plans included sending a message to the still living fools of Blitzwing's former faction. With a swift, experienced swing Nightstrike severed Blitzwing's head from his body thus ending the triple-changer's life.

Nightstrike watched feeling nothing but satisfaction caused by revenge taken and justice served as the last of the light faded from red optics.

xxxxx

Four solar cycles after beginning his hunt saw Nightstrike back in the Ark. Bluestreak hadn't let Nightstrike out of his sight since he had returned from his self-appointed hunt. Nightstrike and Bluestreak seemed to split their time between being in the med-bay, being in the quarters they shared with the Twins, and being in Nightstrike's lab with Wheeljack fabricating the parts, components, and armor that the Twins would need when they onlined.

Prowl hadn't even bothered to schedule either of them for any duties and the only reason Jazz wasn't hovering over Nightstrike like Bluestreak was because he along with Prowl had too many duties to attend to. The saboteur and tactician were both watching for Decepticon reaction to exactly what Nightstrike had done. Both of them were rather sure the immediate reaction had been spectacular.

Very few mechs could boast having the skill to infiltrate the Nemesis much less while it was underwater. None could claim that they had hunted down one of the strongest and most notoriously cruel Decepticon triple-changers, killed said triple-changer by beheading him, infiltrated the underwater Nemesis, and then placed Blitzwing's energon/acid-splattered head mockingly on Megatron's throne after etching a warning using the same acidic energon on said throne. It was an awe-inspiring feat. And it showed exactly why _none_ of the Autobot trine should be crossed.

Thank Primus that all three of them were slow to anger.

Normally that is.

There are certain buttons that when pushed get far faster reactions.

But that sort of action is for the suicidal.

xxxxx

Jazz had finally seemingly talked Nightstrike into getting some proper recharge instead of staying online to watch over Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe as well as Prowl and Jazz himself. The saboteur understood why Nightstrike was acting like this. His medic trine-mate had promised the Twins that he would protect Bluestreak while they were unable to and the Twins getting slagged this bad had roused Nightstrike's protective instincts something fierce. Not that this surprised Jazz. It was just that his trine-mate was going to end up in stasis-lock from low levels of energy by the time Sunstreaker and Sideswipe onlined.

It so happened that Jazz and Bluestreak were in the med-bay when both of the Twins onlined at the same time while Nightstrike was _still_ online in the quarters he shared with his lovers. The medic had had a feeling Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would online today. That was why he hadn't put up much resistance when Jazz had all but tied him down to the berth for some much needed recharge. But Nightstrike couldn't recharge just yet.

Sunstreaker would know what he had done. Partly because of his instincts and partly because of the Gifts the golden warrior had. Sunstreaker had always been artistically inclined and was a visually oriented mech much of the time. The golden warrior's first Gift had manifested early on as what he thought was a vivid imagination, which was only partially true. Sunstreaker was Gifted with Sight; be it of the past, the present, or the future.

Nightstrike's Gift which had at first manifested as precognition had evolved into what was simply called the Knowing. This was in part because Nightstrike was more in touch with the sense of touch and relied more on his sensors than his optics, which had rarely been used before he came to the Ark. The Knowing was almost exactly like Sight, except images were not involved.

Nightstrike and Sunstreaker's strongest Gifts were the Knowing and the Sight respectively and would only continue to become stronger. Both were lucky that their 'mates', whose Gifts were far different from their own, were there to anchor them. Having extrasensory perception to the degree that both of them had it was one of the reasons it was so hard for them to be social with others, though they did manage it to a point. The need to shut down their emotions to control their Gifts was another.

Though Sunstreaker was much harder to anger, Sideswipe was much calmer, Bluestreak didn't feel the need to fill up the silence as often, and Prowl wasn't as tense after Nightstrike, with help from Jazz, taught them to meditate.

Sunstreaker hadn't really known how to react when Nightstrike had explained that his Gift of Sight helped him be a better artist. After all what better help could an artist get than an unending well of inspiration along with your own imagination? But the medic knew that his golden lover hadn't been all that thrilled to know exactly what his Gift of Sight entailed. Sunstreaker wasn't an idiot. He knew very well that his Gift of Sight was just as much of a blessing as it was a curse. At least he had someone who could help him control it and who could understand exactly all that having a Gift of the Seeing variety implied.

Sideswipe had been amused when Nightstrike had explained what Sunstreaker's strongest Gift was. But he had sobered up when the medic explained that Sideswipe was one of Sunstreaker's anchors to reality; the main one because of their twin-bond. Losing touch with reality was a real danger if one delved too deeply into one's Gift for too long.

The scarlet warrior probably would have been happier if Sunstreaker and Nightstrike had just told him the unique Gift he would manifest. Both had mutually decided it would be far more entertaining just to wait until the Gift showed up.

xxxxx

Nightstrike wasn't surprised when the door opened to admit Sunstreaker. One look in the warrior's optics said it all. He knew. His golden lover's Gift really had been growing in strength. Sunstreaker had probably even watched every astro-second of what Nightstrike had done to Blitzwing and what he had done after, while he was doing it. The heated, feral look in those arctic blue optics and that wicked smirk really did say it all.

Of course Nightstrike had _known_ Sunstreaker had most likely been watching. Their Gifts were very in-sync with each other. It was why he had been very careful not to get any of his subject's energon on himself. Well, that and he didn't want to deprive Blitzwing the experience of being eaten alive from the inside.

"You put on such a beautiful show Nightstrike. Thank you for dealing with the miserable scrap-heap that dared to hurt Sideswipe."

It was rare for Sunstreaker to say such things. But instead of responding verbally Nightstrike moved toward the edge of the berth inviting his golden lover to lay down in the middle. Sunstreaker might have been mostly repaired but his systems were in need of more recharge to aid in the last of the self-repair being done. Sideswipe would need to do the same when he and Bluestreak finally showed up in their quarters.

Nightstrike almost cursed the fact that both of them were in no condition for interfacing. Sunstreaker looked far too alluring and tempting crawling across the berth to lay against the medic for the peace of Nightstrike's processor. A little tug had Nightstrike held firmly against Sunstreaker's chassis and a caress down his spinal strut had the medic releasing the data cables held in his helm.

All three of his lovers seemed to have a fetish for running their fingers through the cables. Nightstrike didn't begrudge them this, mostly because the sensation was wonderful. And _none_ of them complained when Nightstrike had the urge to wash and wax them, in either mode. So everthing worked out just fine between them all.

"Blue and Sides will get back soon."

"They went ta th' rec-room."

"And they'll get stopped by that red-faced slagger Tracks."

"I wouldn't worry 'bout it all tha' much. Tracks won't bother them for long. They'll be here in a breem."

The conversations one can have when both of those involved are aware of the same thing. At least both will understand what their talking about. But right now Nightstrike and Sunstreaker were more interested basking in each other's presence and waiting for their absent lovers than in talking about what they both know.


End file.
